Blind Date
by Bella Watson-Holmes
Summary: John Watson is set up on a blind date by his friend, Mike. This is how he meets one Sherlock Holmes. (Johnlock, Mystrade)
1. Chapter 1

A blond male was walking down the sidewalks of London when someone called out his name.

"John!" The male voice called, "John Watson!"

The man turned to see who it was and saw the man walking up to him.

"Mike Stamford, we went to Barts together." He introduced.

"Yes, Mike." John said.

"I heard you were abroad getting shot at, so what happened?" Mike asked.

"I got shot at."

The two went out to lunch at a nearby restaurant.

"So, still at Barts?" John asked.

"Teaching now. Bright young things like we use to be… God, I hate them." Mike said, "So getting things settled in London?"

"Yeah, staying with my sister Harry for now." John answered.

"Anyone special in your life?" Mike asked as their food arrived.

"No, I haven't even been on a date in ages." John said as he started to eat.

"What happen to the one guy you were with a few years ago?"

"He b-broke up with me while I was deployed." John stuttered, still heartbroken.

"You need to go on a blind date." Mike said.

"No, it is a little soon for that." John insisted.

"Just for fun. Get out there and meet people." Mike smiled.

"I suppose you would set me up with someone, right?" John asked.

"Of course, just one…" Mike said.

"It has been a few months… Why not, but pick a good one! The last time you set me up the guy just wanted to get me in bed."

"I apologized up and down for a month." Mike retorted.

John went back to the flat he shared with Harry and Clara. His phone went off.

'**A****ngelo's tonight at 7pm' MS**

The man worked fast and John only had three hours before the date. He went to his room and went through the closet as his sister came in.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked, curious.

"Getting ready for a date." John told her while pulling out a nicer shirt and Jeans.

"You're going on a date already? It's only been six months since your break up." Harry said.

"I know, It's just... I'm tired of being alone. At least if I go on dates I'll be getting out." John stated.

"Don't bring him home." Harry said, winking.

"Get out." John said, smiling closing the door behind her.

He changed into his white t-shirt with a blue button up shirt and his best Jeans. He wasn't sure why he let Mike talk him into this but it was too late to say no now. He caught a cab down to Angelo's after asking Mike for the address. He was dropped off in front of the building and saw a man standing outside; he was tall with dark brown hair and he was wearing a teal dress shirt with black fitted trousers. The man looked at John and their eyes met. He had piercing glasz eyes. John felt like time had stopped. He snapped back to reality when his phone vibrated.

'**Made it?' HW**

'**Yes. Stop bugging me.' JW**

The man walked up to John and smiled, "I assume you're John Watson."

"Yeah, how did you know that?" John asked.

"Sherlock Holmes. Your friend Mike set us up." Sherlock said.

"Right." John said, stunned Mike picked such a gentleman.

"Shall we go in?" Sherlock asked.

"Yeah."

They went in and were seated at a table by the window. John was starting to get nervous. Sherlock looked at him curiously.

"Haven't been on a date in a good long time I see."

"Yeah." John said.

"Recently been dumped probably in the last three to six months I'd say by the tan line where you wore a ring."

"Six months ago." John confirmed.

"So what did you do with your engagement ring?" Sherlock asked.

"Locked it up. No one knew we were engaged." John was impressed.

"That's because they don't know how to look. I can tell he proposed just before you were deployed to Afghanistan or Iraq. He probably wrote you a Dear John letter, but I doubt he explained why. You didn't take the ring off right away." Sherlock rambled.

"That was amazing." John said, smiling.

"That not what people usually say." Sherlock said as the food arrived.

"What do people usually say?" John asked.

"Piss off." He smirked, chuckling lightly.

They started to eat the food, "So, which was it? Afghanistan or Iraq?"

"Afghanistan. I wore the ring up until two weeks ago. I have yet to see him or talk to him. He sent all my stuff to my sister's flat." John stated.

"He found someone else." Sherlock said.

"That is what I was thinking as the reason for him to get my stuff out so fast." John was feeling better now that he was talking about it.

"What about you? You been with anyone?" John asked.

"No, I'm not really into such frivolous things." Sherlock answered.

"What do you do for a living?" John asked.

"I'm a consulting detective."

"Meaning?" John asked.

"When the police are out of their depth- which is always- they call me." Sherlock explained.

"I never heard of a consulting detective before." John said.

"I made the job up; I am the only one in the world." Sherlock told him.

"Right." John thought for a moment but he just brushed the thought away.

It was hitting eight o'clock in the evening when John got up, "It's getting late, I better go home, um… It was nice meeting you."

"Can I see your phone real quick?" Sherlock asked. John handed it over and waited. Sherlock stood up giving it back, "It was a pleasure."

With that, Sherlock left after taking care of the bill. John caught a cab back to the flat and the entire trip home his mind was thinking about Sherlock.


	2. Chapter 2

John woke up the next morning to the sound of his sister's music playing. He got up, putting his robe on before making his way to the kitchen. Harry was trying to dance, albeit horribly, which caused John to snort before he began laughing.

The two were fraternal twins; they looked almost exactly alike, though she had long blond hair with hazel eyes. He had no idea how she continued to be so thin since she ate so much.

"Morning." John said, Harry turned.

"Oh, I hate when you do that!"

John just smiled. He never thought he'd be living with his sister. Only a few months ago he had a flat with his now Ex-Fiance. John wasn't the type to date really; he wanted to spend his life with one person like Harry was doing.

Harry had gotten married four years ago to Clara; she was a night shift Register Nurse. The moment John met her he knew Clara was perfect for his sister. John grabbed an apple as Harry made breakfast.

"So, when is Clara getting home?" John asked.

"In an hour. So, how did last nights date go?" she asked.

"F… Fantastic, I think." John said, avoiding eye contact. Harry got an excited look and smiled. "What?" John looked at her.

"You like him." She said

"No… No, I don't." John insisted.

"You only avoid eye contact after a date went fantastic and you're blushing." Harry smirked.

"Okay, so I like him but I don't think he is the relationship type. He didn't sound like he wanted anything else." John stated.

"You didn't get his number."

"No, I don't really think he will want another date." John stated. John's cell phone rang. He went to grab his phone; he picked it up from the night stand and opened the text message.

'**How did the date go?' MS**

'**Fantasti****c' JW**

'**Do you want to see him again?' MS**

'**Yes' JW**

The front door opened and it was Clara coming home. She was taking her long brown hair out of the bun she put it in for work.

"You're home early." Harry said smiling as they kissed.

"Yeah, someone took over for me." Clara said before glancing in John's direction, "John, how was your date?"

"Good." He answered.

"He told me fantastic." Harry said.

"You like this one, so tell us about him." Clara said.

"Tall, curly black hair and these amazing green-blue eyes… I barely noticed anything else, I just remember those eyes." John said smiling, almost tuning out of the world.

Harry glanced at John, "I read on the internet those types of eyes are called Glasz or something."

"Glasz.." John murmured, still mentally conjuring the image of the fierce, glowing, near glittering eyes.

"You fell hard." Clara said grinning.

"I know, it scares me." John confessed.

"In time you will get over what Greg did to you. I promise…" Clara said putting her hand on his shoulder, "I am going to sleep so no loud music or parties."

John and Harry laughed at the comment; John went to his room and changed. Harry and John were going out to lunch today; they went to a Chinese place they both loved.

* * *

They sat down at their usual table, glancing around the restaurant. It was a fairly small establishment, mainly in browns and reds, the typical asian-style that was most Chinese restaurants.

Their usual waitress came by, handing out the menus. She smiled, "Hey, how's it going today? If I must say so, I would order the Dim Sum. The cook today makes them fantastic."

John smiled, "I'll take that." He looked towards his sister, "What are you going to have?"

Harry scrutinized the menu before shrugging, "I'm going to be stereotypical. Won Ton Soup and four Eggrolls please!"

The waitress smiled and quickly wrote it down, "Any drinks, or just water?"

John thought for a moment before ordering a cola. Harry, on the other hand, flipped to the back of the menu. "I think I'll try this ginger smoothie. It sounds delicious!" She decided, handing her menu over to the waitress.

"I'll warn you, the ginger is strong and it's a little overwhelming. Spicy even." The woman warned, but his sister waved the waitresses concerns away, "I like spicy!"

"If you're sure.." She murmured as she walked off to give the order to the cooks.

"So. What's his name? What was he wearing? Did he smell good?" She shot question after question, causing John's face to slowly inflame in embarrassment.

"One question at a time.. His name is Sherlock. I don't really remember what he was wearing, but he looked smartly dressed, I think it was even silk or designer. He smelled, well.. This might sound strange, but he smelled like a mix of coconut and chemicals." John murmured, recalling what he could. He recalled the eyes more than anything else. The eyes and the expanse of milky-white skin that stretched over the mans long, thin neck.

Harry nodded, thinking. "I have a feeling he might be worth your time more than Greg ever was."

John swallowed, "I wouldn't count on that." He murmured, happy when the tense moment was broken by the waitress bringing their drinks.

With the heavy topic over, they quickly began talking about everything they could think of, pushing aside the topic of dating for now.

* * *

Sherlock was busy. He was very busy. He had to get this sample analyzed, but this bloody man wouldn't leave him alone.

"Stamford. Please." He said in a clipped tone, sending a pointed look towards the overweight man sitting on a chair across from where he was working. The other raised his hands in defense.

"Hey, don't be so touchy! I was just excited to know about how your date went. I was surprised you even went for it, Mr. I-am-married-to-my-work. What did you think of John?"

Sherlock sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he pushed away from the microscope, knowing the man wouldn't leave him alone until he divulged the information he was seeking.

"He was a fantastic man, not as stupid as most people but doesn't think or look. Like everyone else. Recently betrayed. I'm not exactly dating material though so I doubt he'd care much if I didn't see him again. I probably wouldn't be able to give him the attention he desires." The brunette sniffed, hoping this information would make the other leave him alone.

"Actually, he wants to meet you again."

Sherlock froze while reaching for the microscope again and looked up. He would be lying to himself if he said he wasn't interested in John, oh no, that is far from the truth, but he wasn't one for relationships or sentiment or wishy-washy brain-diseased emotions.

"Give me his number." Sherlock demanded, his voice sharp and precise as he reached out a hand demandingly towards Stamford.

This sudden demand seemed to have startled the other man as he gaped at first before smiling and handing over his phone.

"It's under 'Watson'."

Sherlock quickly entered the password, which the other forgot to disable, and scrolled through the contacts until he came to the name he was searching for. He pulled his own out and quickly punched the number and saved it in his contacts as 'John'.

He tossed the phone back at Stamford who quickly juggled it before securely holding it, huffing and complaining under his breath over almost having dropped his phone due to the others lack of care.

Sherlock could care less about the other and his phone as he pulled up the contact he just received and punched out a text.

**Tonight. Six o'clock. Same restaurant. No exceptions. -SH**

He smiled to himself, placing his thumb to his lip before he giddly rolled his chair up to the microscope, pocketing his phone, and getting back to work.

* * *

They had just finished their meal when John received the text message. He pulled out his phone and checked it. It was from an unknown number. His brow furrowed as he opened the text up.

"Who is it from?" Harry asked, craning her neck in hopes of catching a glimpse of the text.

"Who the hell is SH?" He muttered, raising a brow at the demanding message.

"Didn't you say his name was Sherlock? What was his last name?" Harry asked, having a feeling it was the mystery date from last night.

"Holmes.. Oh my God, it's him." He said as it dawned on him. His heart palpitated wildly in anticipation. "I have another date with him tonight!"

* * *

**All the credit for Sherlock part goes to Winterimperfect.**

**Hope you like the chapter!**


	3. Chapter 3

John was in a cab on his way to Angelo's for another date with Sherlock Holmes. He hadn't really expected to hear from the man or even see him again. The impression he had gotten of Sherlock was he didn't care for relationships. Sure, Sherlock had said that, but John got that from the way the man acted. The cab dropped him off at Angelo's and he saw Sherlock waiting outside for him again. John took a deep breath before going up to the man.

"You're nervous."

"Yeah, it's just something you said last night. I thought you weren't interested in frivolous things like this." John said.

"Usually I am not, but I am interested in you." Sherlock stated.

John was taken back for a moment; John studied the man in front of him, his curly black hair, messy and sticking up in parts. His eyes were fierce, nearly glittering. 'Glasz' He recalled. His eyes trailed down the broad jaw, down the long white neck to where it gave way to a white dress shirt, two buttons opened. A suit jacket lay atop it to give some contrast. Black trousers and black leather shoes completed his outfit.

"John, you paying attention?"

"Sorry, um… I was just thinking." John said as he came out of his trance.

Sherlock cocked a brow before opening the door for John to enter the restaurant. They were soon seated in the same seat as the night before. They had just ordered when Sherlock glanced up at the door as someone entered.

"Why is he here?" He muttered, disdain coloring his voice and facial expressions clearly.

John looked around trying to wonder who 'he' was. He stopped looking around when he saw his ex-fiancé having entered the restaurant. Everything stopped. His eyes slowly scanned over the man standing next to his ex. Not very tall, but not very short either. Short rusty-black curly hair, slightly round but not unflattering. Well dressed with a long black umbrella in one hand. John looked at Sherlock hoping his date hadn't noticed the look on John's face, he took a deep breath.

"So, um…" John was trying to think of something to say when someone came up to Sherlock; he saw Sherlock let out a sigh. John didn't bother to look at the man. He took a sip of his wine.

"Why, Hello." Mycroft said.

"Hello." Sherlock all but growled. John looked up and he felt his heart skip a beat. He knew the two men were talking, but he wasn't hearing a single word. Greg looked over at Sherlock's date and realized who it was. He wasn't sure he should say anything. Suddenly, John got up and fled the table. Sherlock glanced at the two men, sighed, contemplated what he should do and decided the reaction was promising. It seemed Greg was the ex. How queer.

The brunette quickly stood and strode out of the restaurant, finding John leaning against the wall outside.

"Your ex?" Sherlock drawled, leaning slightly against the wall as he studied John. The other nodded.

"Can we just leave? I don't want to see him again." John stated.

"I'll go pay." Sherlock said, leaving John alone. Sherlock went back to the table to get their coats before paying the bill.

"What is the matter with your date?" Mycroft asked.

"Ask your boyfriend here. He knows. I'm surprised you didn't guess it yourself. You're getting rusty, brother dearest."

Mycroft looked at Greg who was unsure what just happened, he cocked a brow in Greg's direction.

"That's my ex- fiancé, John." Greg told him.

Mycroft studied Greg for a minute. "You feel justified, but guilty. I see. I should re-evaluate you." He sniffed before walking out of the restaurant, leaving Greg standing by the table alone.

He looked longingly out the window as he saw Sherlock and John getting into a cab while his own date entered the idling vehicle.

* * *

**Winterimperfect helped with Sherlock and Mycroft parts.**


	4. Chapter 4

John was trying to relax after seeing his ex with another man. Sherlock was still by John's side to the blondes surprise. He didn't expect Sherlock to stick around; it was only a date after all. John looked at Sherlock, unsure of what to say. He didn't want to scare Sherlock off so he thought carefully.

Sherlock reached out- hesitated for a moment- before laying a hand gently on the others shoulder.

John froze at Sherlock's touch. He looked at Sherlock, "Sorry about what happened in there."

"No need. Do you need to speak about it? I may not understand, but I do recall someone droning on about how it helps. Want to come to my place for tea? I promise no bodily contact or carnal desires." Sherlock murmured, quickly scanning in his memories if he kept anything of use when it came to comfort, but realized overall he deleted all of them.

John thought about it, "Sure."

Sherlock gave a quick nod before grabbing Johns hand and striding to the street where he hailed a cab with a quick raise of the arm. He slid into the cab and drawled his address. He leaned back into the seat and stared outside.

"Um..." John couldn't find anything to say.

The brunette gave him a glance before going back to staring out the window. They were almost at his place and there was no need for small talk. John got the hint so he just waited, thinking about Sherlock.

When they finally arrived, Sherlock alighted the cab. He once again snagged Johns hand after paying the cabbie and took him to the door. He unlocked it quickly before ascending the steps. He opened the door to his flat and let John in, making his way to the kitchen to start the kettle for tea. After that was done he glanced in John's direction, whom was standing quite stiffly at the door. He held a hand out to the armchair opposite his own in front of the hearth, "Sit?"

John sat down looking around; he took a double take towards the mantel.

"Is that a real skull?"

"Indeed. My friend." He said in passing, striding once more into the kitchen to take down two mugs and put in tea bags. "You're in luck, John. I had two mugs not in use. Rarity for me, I must tell you. I normally use them to house fingers."

John wanted to make sure he heard that right, "Did you just say fingers?"

"Yes. Problem? If so, don't look in the microwave." Sherlock said, mirth evident in his voice as he glanced over his shoulder with a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Don't intend to." John said.

"Not even the least bit curious? How boring." Sherlock hummed, pouring the water into the cups before making his way to his chair and lowering himself into it as he let the tea steep.

"I am curious, strangely enough."

Sherlock chuckled as he glanced at John before stating, "You like your tea weak, don't you? I better go take the teabag out."

He stood up and meandered to the kitchen without waiting for an answer.

"How did... Never mind."

The taller man put in two sugars and a bit of milk and put John's mug aside before sniffing his own tea, cocking his head to the side to see the color and decided it was his preferred strength. He pulled out his tea bag and put in half a teaspoon of sugar. He picked both mugs up and made his way back to the den, handing John his tea as he passed.

"Thanks." John said

Sherlock sipped his tea and glanced at the telly, "I don't watch it, but you're free to if it helps."

"No, I just want to forget about my ex."

Sherlock cocked a brow, "I thought that's why people watched the telly. To forget their lives and laugh at others. You could also turn to drink but I doubt you would."

"It doesn't work for me, at least not since I got deployed."

The brunette nodded. "So, what does work? If it's sexual gratification there's not much I can help you with there."

John looked at Sherlock, almost shocked, "That is the last thing on my mind!"

The blonde huffed a little, but then let out a weary sigh as he queried, "Who was that man you were talking to, anyway?"

"Hmm? None of your concern." Sherlock murmured, sipping his tea as he studied John.

"Right, do you know the other man he was with?"

"I do believe it was your good for nothing, whom I do have a slight feeling is bedding the man you saw." Sherlock drawled, glancing up at the wall.

"I had that feeling." John's stomach got uneasy.

Sherlock glanced at John, "If it's any consolation, that guy felt superbly guilty when he noticed you and was acting like a wounded puppy. Of course, the guilt isn't enough for him to rethink his actions. He does believe he's justified."

"Guilty! The man left me! and never gave me a reason!" John yelled, realising shortly that he just took his anger out on a man whom he just met yesterday.

"Sorry I didn't mean to yell."

The taller man simply sipped his tea, an eyebrow cocked in the others direction.

"Wait a minute..." John looked at Sherlock. He started to remember why he thought he had heard of Sherlocks job title before. Greg had mention it. John remembered the first time he heard it.

* * *

**_6 years ago..._**

_Greg walked through the door looking annoyed. _

"_Bad day at work?" John asked as he was lying on the couch._

"_Yeah, I had to get outside help from a man who is a consulting detective; he makes me look like an idiot." Greg grumbled before laying on top of John. "His name is Sherlock. It's only been a day and already I want to punch the man."_

"_Honey, relax. Maybe you won't need to call him again and you're not an idiot." John said, kissing his boyfriend._

* * *

"Hm?" Sherlock looked at John.

"How long have you known Greg?" John asked.

"Quite some time. He relies on me due to his incompetence. It's not different from the rest of them, but still..." Sherlock explained, crossing his legs as he continued to sip at his tea.

"Yeah, I know, he mentioned you a few times... He never brought work home usually."

Sherlock hummed in acknowledgement, but didn't say much more.

"This isn't my night." John said

"I apologize if my arrangements went awry." Sherlock muttered, placing his mug on the table.

"It's not your fault; you didn't know that he'd be there or that he was my ex."

"Or that.. Ugh.. Man was there." Sherlock grumbled, sighing.

John looked at Sherlock confused.

"Hmm?" Sherlock murmured, looking towards John.

"Who was that man with Greg?" John asked hoping for answer this time.

Sherlock sighed, "It was my brother."

"Wait, your brother..." John was a little stunned.

Sherlock nodded before sipping his tea. He looked back up and added, "We don't exactly get along."

"What, is he as smart as you?" John asked.

"Who knows? Possibly?" Sherlock sighed, "Though he doesn't use his intellect in the same manner as I do."

"Of course..." John let out a sigh. "Is there any food here?"

"Not really. But you can get some food next door- or, if you really want to, there is a restaurant down the street that I can assure you my brother would never visit."

"There's no food here." John was shocked but than again almost everything Sherlock did shocked him at first.

"You can go check, but I don't even think I have bread." Sherlock replied, finishing off his tea.

John was now officially speechless, the man didn't seem human, but he was human. John was thinking of what to say, "Where is that restaurant you were talking about."

"Want me to take you there?" He asked.

"Please." John answered

Sherlock stood up gracefully, popped his back, and made his way to the door. He pulled on his discarded suit jacket and opened the door, waiting for John to head out before him. John got out of the chair, not even having drank his tea, and went out the door quickly. The brunette followed after him and made his way down the street to a little hole in the wall restaurant. He opened the door for the blonde and gestured for him to enter. John entered the restaurant and looked around.

"Order whatever you want, I'll pay." Sherlock stated, settling himself into one of the two booths that were in the restaurant.

John ordered his food, "So how often do you eat?" He asked Sherlock.

He glanced at John. "Once a week at most when I'm working."

"Wait, what? you eat once a week?" John said.

"Digestion slows down the thinking process and reaction times." He explained, staring out the window and studying the people who passed.

"Okay..." John's food arrived and he started to eat. "Um... I was wondering why you're so interested in me?"

"Because I am. You're interesting. Simple."

"Right." John's cell rang; he has received a text message. He quickly read it before typing a response and putting his phone back in his pocket.

Sherlock sighed before glancing at John, "Did you want to spend the night at my place? There's an extra bedroom upstairs that I don't use."

"Why not... it is better than going home to my over protective sister."

Sherlock nodded before going back to people watching.

* * *

**Winterimperfect wrote Sherlock part.**

**I would have updated yesterday but I am in the process of moving so updates might be late for a couple weeks.**


	5. Chapter 5

John woke up to see sunlight filtering through the window. He looked around, remembering he was at Sherlocks flat. He sat up in bed trying to remember the nights events besides seeing his ex, Greg. John sat up, taking a deep breath. He paused as he heard violin music. He went downstairs and walked into the living room to see Sherlock playing the violin. John smiled; the music was beautiful. He went into the kitchen to make some tea. He knew if he went home now Harry would be all over him thinking he got laid.

John hated when she did that. She was so protective of him; even more so since the breakup. He found a clean cup and a tea bag and began going through the motions of making tea. Shortly after, the music stopped.

"I see you slept well."

"Yeah." John said. Sherlock looked out the window.

"What is it?"

"DI Lestrade is here." Sherlock stated.

"What is it this time, Lestrade?" Sherlock called out as the Detective Inspector came into their flat.

"Murder. One I think you'd enjoy. A murder with no evidence of the perpetrator."

"Who's on forensics?" Sherlock asked, keeping his eyes focused out the window so he wouldn't betray the ray of hope that was probably glittering in his eyes at the thought of something interesting to relieve him of his boredom.

"Anderson." The DI clipped out, impatient.

"He doesn't work well with me." Sherlock stated with annoyance lacing his voice.

"He won't be your assistant!" Lestrade exclaimed before taking a breath and asking, "You coming?"

"Sure. John, would you like to come?"

John knew that Greg noticed him now. Greg turned his head to look in the direction that Sherlock was studying now.

The blonde was standing in the kitchen pouring his tea when he was asked the question. He looked over his shoulder quizzically, "Why would I come?"

"You're a doctor. I also like the company." Sherlock said.

"How did you…. Never mind, that is a stupid question." John said with a wave of the hand, he then looked at Sherlock, "Why do you think after all that I have seen that I would want to see more?"

"Because you do. Your therapist thinks you have PTSD. While you do have an intermittent tremor in your left hand and she thinks you're haunted by the war she's got it the wrong way around. You're not haunted by the war. You miss it"

"How did you know about my therapist?" John asked.

"I did my research, tell me if I am wrong." Sherlock said, staring at him.

"No, you're one hundred percent right." John murmured, stunned. Greg looked at Sherlock. "You two coming in the police car or taking a cab?"

"Cab." Sherlock drawled at the same time John replied with, "Cab. I'm not riding in a car with you."

Greg sighed as John hurried up the steps to get fully dressed. The DI left shortly and Sherlock quickly dressed himself, a smile tugging at his lips over a possibly good case.

"Let's go."

They took a cab to the crime scene and when John stepped out he took a deep breath before following Sherlock. A dark haired and skinned female was standing by the police tape.

"Hello, freak." She said.

"Hello, Sergeant Donovan."

"Why are you here?" She hissed out.

"Detective Lestrade invited me and I do believe he wants me to take a look." Sherlock smirked.

"You know what I think." She lifted the tape.

"Always."

"Who is he?" She asked as John walked under the tape.

"My colleague, Watson." Sherlock murmured, holding a hand out in introduction towards John.

"Wait, how did you get a colleague?" She asked Sherlock before turning to John, "Did he follow you home?"

"Let's just go to the crime scene. I am sure Lestrade's tired of waiting."

She led them to the crime scene, albeit reluctantly. Sherlock surveyed the area; noting deeply imprinted foot prints heading into the neighbors, dark oil staining the mans fingers, a hastily cut rose a foot away from the dead man and a rose missing from the neighbors bush. He then quickly studied the body placement. The man was face down, a Winchester knife was buried deeply into the mans chest which caused his upper body to arch off the ground slightly due to the hilt. There was a torch a few inches away from the mans left hand. Sherlock put on latex gloves and examined the body quickly while John stood back. He saw Greg walking up before standing next to him.

"I didn't expect to see you with Sherlock Holmes."

"What do you care?" John asked.

"You two were on a date. He doesn't do relationships…" Greg informed his ex.

"I know that but do I look like I care?" John spat, looking at Greg, his heart stalling momentarily as their eyes met.

"No. Apparently not. You stayed at his place so I assume something happened."

"One- it's no longer your business what I do or with whom and, two- for your information I slept in the second bedroom, I didn't feel like going home to my sisters flat."

"So, you mean to tell me you stayed the night just to avoid going home." Greg stated in disbelief. John nodded.

"So, how did you two meet?"

"Blind date. Mikes idea…"

"I assume since you stayed the night that that wasn't the first date."

"No. Second date and he asked me- well, more like demanded it, I guess." John murmured. Greg was shocked over the idea that Sherlock Holmes was interested in John.

"Lestrade." Sherlock called and Greg went over. John decide to follow, he wanted to see Greg made an idiot of.

"It was an accident."

"Well, I think it was a heated lovers spat since the wife and husband were fighting last night!" Anderson crowed.

"Shut up, Anderson. You're lowering the IQ of the entire street." Sherlock drawled.

"How do you know it was an accident?" DI Lestrade asked, glancing at the brunette.

"How? I can tell he came out here early this morning- shortly after the rain fall that occurred in the wee hours of the morning, I'd say about two o'clock in the morning- with a torch- as you see close to his left hand- and he came here to the neighbors rose bush to remove one of the roses to use as an apology to his wife. He used that Winchester, for it was the only knife he had in the garage that he was sneaking out of. How do I know it's the garage it was in? Look at the oil on his fingers. Seriously. On the way back he turned the torch off so his wife wouldn't notice him and that's when he tripped over that rock over there and, sadly, fell upon his own knife which was facing up as he braced himself for the fall. Silly really."

John was smiling, holding back his laughter. Sherlock just made Greg and Anderson look like a complete morons and John was enjoying it. Greg looked at John, annoyed. John just kept smiling. Sherlock took his gloves off and went over to John.

"Let's go." Sherlock murmured.

"That was brilliant." John all but giggled at the taller man as he followed.

"You're already following him around everywhere." Greg snapped at John. The blonde stopped and turned on his heel.

"You left me. It is no longer your business who I am with."

"He doesn't understand sentiment like we do!" Greg cried out, reaching towards John whom quickly stepped out of his reach.

"Oh, I doubt your boyfriend does either!" John all but yelled, his face flushing in anger. "Unless you want me to punch you I suggest you walk away and do your job… Oh, wait, Sherlock did that for you." John snorted before turning on his heel and began to walk away. He stopped a short distance away, glanced over his shoulder and added, "Oh yeah, and Greg? He does make you look like an idiot."

Greg watched John walk away with Sherlock. The man was annoyed with both men. Not only was he dealing with Sherlock, he now had to deal with a bitter, ex-fiancé. Above all that, Mycroft hadn't even talked to him since last night, a rarity for a man who enjoyed the sound of his voice.

* * *

**Winterimperfect gets the credit for Sherlock part.**


	6. Chapter 6

John opened the door to his sister's flat hoping she wasn't home; her keys were gone so that meant she was out. He went to take a shower and change into clean clothes for he knew when she got back she'd be all over him, asking what happened since he didn't come home last night.

He stepped into the burning hot stream and sighed. He just stood under the water, letting it warm him up and soothe his aching muscles from the tension they found themselves in. He groaned before rolling his shoulders and tilting his head back so the water massaged his scalp. He ran a hand up his neck and into his hair to slowly massage the warm water between the short, soft locks. He let his mind drift, ignoring all thoughts of Greg he focused on Sherlock and smiled. He quickly shook his head as the thoughts soon turned lustful. He really didn't feel like having a wank right at this moment.

He poured some shower gel into his hand and used it to wash his hair. When it was this short, it didn't matter what he used to wash it. He used his hands to wash his body since he forgot to bring in a wash cloth. He was soon done and turned the water off. He stepped out, toweled off and quickly slid on his clothes.

He padded into the living room and made himself comfortable on the couch, turning on the telly. Only crap shows were on but he watched them anyway.

Soon, the blissful monotony of bad telly was interrupted by the door opening and his sisters voice.

"Crap." He whispered.

Harry walked into the living room and grinned, "So, you've finally made it home."

"Yeah." John muttered, not taking his eyes off the Telly.

"So, I assume by the fact you took a shower that you got… Lucky last night."

"No. I just didn't want to come home."

"Yeah, right. I mean, you're not the type to just hop into bed with just anyone." Harry dug into the boy verbally.

"Harry, I didn't do anything of that sort!" John insisted.

"Harry, let it go." Clara said.

"Why? He was the one who didn't come home. A date is one thing, but rushing it doesn't do him any good." Harry said to Clara.

"I didn't rush into bloody anything!" John cried out, standing abruptly and stalking to his room, slamming the door closed and locking it.

He was tired of his sister being overbearing. Ever since he got home after being wounded in the war she got even more protective than before. She had been born five minutes before John so naturally she felt she had to protect him, but this was just too much. Just because he didn't come home she thinks he did something stupid.

There was loud banging on his door, "John, open this door!" Harry yelled.

"Just go away!" John yelled back. He rarely got to be alone unless Harry went to work.

"Come on, just open up!" John sighed and opened his door, glowering at Harry who muttered, "Thank you."

"Why can't you just leave me alone?" John asked.

"When peoples hearts are broken, they tend to go on the rebound and do silly things. Sherlock is more than likely worth your attentions, but to just rush into bed with him to forget Greg is silly. You'll be the one to get hurt in the end. Maybe it was all he wanted from you, knowing you were on the rebound. Maybe-" She was rambling off at him when he cut her off,

"Oi! For the last time, I did nothing of the sort! I was simply tired and wanted to get some rest so he let me use his guest bedroom. I assure you, sex was the **last** thing on my mind last night. Now, if you will please leave me alone."

"Right." Harry growled, annoyed.

"We get along better if we don't live together."

"You have nowhere to go." Harry said walking away.

He growled low in his throat and slammed the door, turning the lock once more. He sat down on his bed, his hands clenching in anger. That woman could just sod off.

He took a deep, steadying breath and pulled out his cell phone. Sherlock would probably not give a damn, but he felt the need to complain to somebody.

He tapped on Sherlocks number and quickly typed out a text.

**I am so sick of being treated like an invalid.**

**I wish I could live alone!**

**-JW**

He sighed and laid back on his bed, reaching for a book he had on the bedside table to read, knowing Sherlock wouldn't respond. At least, that's what he thought. His phone vibrated.

**What happened? Did you want to come back? -SH**

John felt a brow raise, and almost laughed at how that simple act made him think of the tall brunette. He did not expect the man to care. He was probably feigning care for his sake, but all the same it meant something to him.

**Harry is being overprotective. Accusing**

**me of giving into my broken heart.**

**I'd love to just move out.**

**-JW**

He couldn't help but smile. Just saying it was like a breath of fresh air. It's funny, he always considered himself sociable with many friends, but when it came down to needing someone to talk to, he went straight to an anti-social man whom he had just met. How queer.

His phone vibrated once more, and like a school girl with a crush, he dove for it and almost giggled as he pulled up the text.

**I don't know if you recall, but I do have a spare bedroom**

**that could possibly use a human permanently.**

**-SH**

John felt his heart palpitate. He should think about it, he should ask around if it's the best idea. But in the end, he smiled and punched out,

**I do believe I have a human who would like that**

**permanent position. When?**

**-JW**

He felt his heart flutter at the almost instantaneous message,

**Tomorrow. Hope you don't mind the sounds of a violin. -SH**

John smiled a wide smile before he scrambled into action, packing his meager possessions in anticipation of the next day.


	7. Chapter 7

John awoke the next morning, face down on his stripped bed. He had put his bed clothes in a box with his few possessions the night before, only keeping his pillow out for the night. He yawned, stretched, then made his way to the kitchen to make his last meal in his sister's flat. He had to tell her he was leaving, but just didn't know how.

He was awake before Harry; Clara had already left for work. He spread strawberry jam on to pieces of toast and sat down at the table to eat them. He stared at his plate in a bored manner as he chewed away. Eating alone was always boring. It wasn't long before he heard the creak of his sister's bedroom door. She soon joined him in the kitchen.

She went to apologize but he held up a hand to silence her, still in the middle of his last piece of toast. She sighed and settled down opposite him, wanting to talk once he was done.

When he swallowed his last bite he took a deep breath before starting, "Harry. Last night I found a-"

He was cut off by a knock on the door. Three precise knocks, crisp.

Harry looked at him quizzically. He had a similar look as she got up to open the door. John followed closely behind. Imagine his surprise when he saw Sherlock Holmes on the other side of the door.

"Hello. I've come to collect John." He stated, looking over Harry's shoulder to where John was looking on in shock, still in his pajamas.

"Collect? Who the bloody hell are you?" Harry demanded, blocking Sherlock's entrance to the flat.

John cleared his throat and lowered Harry's arm.

"That's Sherlock. Before he interrupted I was trying to tell you that I'm going to be moving in with him. Today." He explained, looking to the side.

"Move in? Really John. You've known him for, what? Two days? And you're moving in with him?" She exclaimed, gathering steam as she all but yelled, "He could be a psychopath for all you know!"

John looked at her in shock at such an assumption, a look that further deepened into worry when Sherlock drawled, "I'm not a psychopath. I'm a high-functioning Sociopath. Now, if you don't mind. John. Get changed. It's time to go. I have a cab awaiting us at the door."

"Say no, John! Don't go!" Harry exclaimed, her hands curled into fists with her anger.

"Sorry. I want to move in with him. We can still see each other. Besides, Clara deserves to have her time alone with you. I want to live there. I trust him." John explained, a tense smile on his lips as he moved into his room, got changed, and left with a backpack and box with all his belongings.

"Goodbye, Harry. Text me if you want to go out for lunch some time."

With that, John walked up to Sherlock who wordlessly spun on his heel and strode out of the building with John on his heels.

–

John sighed as he put the last of the few things of his away. Before he could settle in he had to carry down five large boxes filled with beakers and other miscellanous items that belonged to the tall brunette.

He laid on his bed, which faintly smelled like Sherlock. How odd. He ignored the rousing in his loins as he got up and decided to make his way downstairs.

Sherlock was laying in his armchair, slumped. He was bored from the looks of it. He didn't even acknowledge John's presence.

The other shrugged before sitting into what he now considered his armchair and just studied the room to get to know where everything was and whatnot. He stared at the mystical microwave when he turned his head to study the kitchen, but shook free any ideas to see just **what** was in there.

The silence in the flat was soon filled with the irritating sound of someones phone vibrating. Sherlock let out an irritated grumble as he fished the phone out, groaning further when he saw it was from his brother.

"What is it now, Mycroft?" Sherlock muttered, disdain thick in his voice.

Sherlocks eyebrow soon cocked, higher than usual John noted, as he listened to what sounded like gasping in the phone.

He was about to hang up, not wanting to know what lewd things his brother got up to when he heard an all but angry growl that was the only warning he got from the most emotional rant Sherlock ever heard from his rather emotionless brother.

"There is no point in sentiment. There is no point in relationships. Can you believe this man! He comes over to apologize and some girl followed him and thrust herself into my home demanding he get back with her and her baby. The gall he has!"

The brunette's right eyebrow soon lifted up to join the left as he was perplexed by his brothers ongoing rant about some woman, Lestrade, and a baby.

John also had both eyebrows raised as he could hear the others rant crystal clear with how loud he was being. He could tell from Sherlock's expression that this was a rarity.

When he soon figured out the story the other was hysterically ranting over, John launched himself out of the chair and snatched the phone out of an almost shell-shocked Sherlock's hand.

"What do you mean he has a child?" John said in surprise.

Apparently his voice calmed the other down until he was composed.

"Oh? You're with my brother still? Queer. Yes. It does appear Lestrade," He spat, "Had a child a month or so ago. Funny, since he got with me last year."

John stood stunned by two things Lestrade had cheated on him while was deployed and even before that with Mycroft, and Greg had a child but he was gay that much John knew for sure.


	8. Chapter 8

John had gone out for a walk after hearing the news about his ex, Greg, having had a baby who was only a month old. John was still with him at the time, but deployed. His love had betrayed him and more than likely left John in order to take care of her and the child. A car pulled up beside him and two men stepped out standing before John.

"May I help you?" John asked.

"Dr. Watson, you are to come with us." The taller man said.

"And if I refuse?"

"You don't have a choice." The smaller man said. John judged the two men and decided not to fight, he couldn't take them both with a bad shoulder. The men sat on either side of him so he couldn't get out. The car arrived shortly at a flat. The first man got out and let John out of the car.

"He is expecting you inside." The man stated. John went up to the door and opened it walking in, he looked around the flat. It looked better than Sherlock's.

"I imagine you're wondering why you are here." A voice said.

"Mycroft Holmes." John said looking at him. "You could just pick me up."

"Why would I do that?"

"No reason, so why did you bring me here?" John asked.

"I have a proposal for you." John waited for him to continue. "I will give you enough money to live on for the rest of your life if you leave my brother."

"No!" John yelled.

"Sherlock is very childish and doesn't understand the concept of sentiment, or romance for that matter." Mycroft paused, "You're really just wasting your time like you did with Greg…Sherlock only wants what he wants and that is solving crimes… He has no use for ordinary people like you."

"No matter what you say I am not leaving him! And we aren't even a couple! It's only been two dates!" John all but yelled, "No amount of money you offer me will change my mind, it would never make me happy."

"You want to be with a man who will never understand what you are looking for."

"Yes, and just because he doesn't understand it doesn't mean he is incapable of it." John said.

"The chances of him wanting a relationship and having carnal desire are low, Dr. Watson." Mycroft informed him.

"I will take my chances; I am going to leave now." John started to leave.

"I will see around, Dr. Watson."

John got outside and walked a few blocks before catching a cab back to 221b, Sherlock was playing his violin.

* * *

**I know the chapter short, the next one will be longer. I swear, I just been busying moving.**

**hope you enjoy!**


	9. Chapter 9

John was in his room reading a book enjoying the quiet time when a shot rang out, he dropped his book and went downstairs hearing another gunshot. He got to the living room and Sherlock was pointing the gun at the wall.

"What are you doing?!" John all but yelled.

"Bored." Sherlock said.

"Wait, what?"

"Bored!" Sherlock started to shot the wall again, John covered his ears waiting for the right moment to come in and take the gun. When Sherlock stopped shooting John went in and grabbed the gun, checking to see how many bullets were left.

"Can't you just do what normal people do?" John asked.

"What do normal people do?"

"Take a walk, read a book."

"Boring." Sherlock slumped on the couch. John just stared at him, "Don't give me that look."

"People don't shoot a wall when they get bored."

"I am not other people, I need a case!" Sherlock exclaimed.

"Can't you just be patient!" John said as Sherlock gave him a glare, "Never mind." John took the gun upstairs with him. John hid it so hopefully Sherlock wouldn't find it, he went back to reading his book but before too long he heard violin music. It sounded horrible so he went downstairs.

"Really?!" John yelled.

"What? I am bored!"

"Than do something that isn't annoying!"

"Like what?"

"Take a walk." John suggested.

"Yeah, like that will help." Sherlock retorted. John stormed off to his room annoyed; he just wanted to punch the man. He didn't hear anything more after that so he was finally able to read. John went back downstairs and went into the kitchen.

Sherlock was bored. Oh so very bored. Sherlock ground his teeth as he paced like a caged animal around the den. He quickly pulled out his phone, saw no messages and stuffed it back into his dressing gown. He pulled open his computer and began searching through news stories.

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing! No murders, no mysteries! Why is it so peaceful?!"

"Sherlock, last I checked no murders were a good thing." John stated.

"What am I supposed to do?" Sherlock asked, looking at John.

"I don't know, what usually helps when you're bored?"

"Cocaine or smokes."

"You do drugs?" John asked.

"Not recently." Sherlock answered.

"I am going for a walk, don't worry about me." John grabbed his coat and cell phone leaving the flat. John walked towards the Chinese place Sherlock had taken him to, he saw Lestrade outside leaning on his car eating. John was about to turn away.

"We can't avoid each other forever." Lestrade said.

"I like to try." John said.

"I get it, you're mad at me." Lestrade said, walking up to John.

"Mad! I am furious with you… You don't dump someone like that without a reason!" John wanted to hit the man.

"I don't have a good reason. I admit that… You also forget what we lost four years ago." Greg said.

"I didn't forget, Greg. It still haunts me to this day."

"Wrong choice of words… Sorry, it is just that... Mycroft won't talk to me now." Greg said.

"Can you blame him? I wouldn't either if I found out my partner cheated on me with a female and knocked her up."

"He told you." Greg said.

"No. He told Sherlock and I overheard it." John stated.

"How would you have overheard it?"

"I moved out of Harry's flat… She got too overbearing."

"So you moved in with him… Sherlock…" Greg stopped himself from finishing the sentence. He just put his hands in his pocket. "I really am sorry about how I, um, dumped you."

John turned on his heel and walked away not wanting to say another word to Greg. The man still didn't understand the pain he had put him through. John never expected him to either.

* * *

**For the most part I did this chapter on my own, I had to get help with Sherlock part from Winterimperfect.**

**hope you like it!**


	10. Chapter 10

It had been two weeks since moving in with Sherlock and John was out getting coffee. He was about to call Greg when someone caught his eye; a tall man with short brown hair in uniform. He gulped as the man spotted him, he started to walk away but the man ran up to him.

"John!" The man yelled.

John stopped and turned, "Hey Alex, how you been?"

"Good, where is your partner Greg?" Alex asked. John was taken aback by the question.

"We… We broke up a few months ago."

"Oh, sorry. Maybe we could go out on a date now that you're single?" Alex said grinning from ear to ear.

"No, I really shouldn't… I am not entirely ready." John lied.

"Not even one date?" Alex asked, annoyed.

"No."

He grabbed John's arm, gripping it hard. "Let go of me!" John demanded.

"You really shouldn't say no, your Detective inspector isn't here to protect you anymore." Alex growled.

"Alex, I remember you." A man said, both John and Alex looked.

"Greg, I didn't expect to see you here." Alex said, letting go of the power grip on John's arm. "I heard you two broke up."

"It wasn't working out, we are about to go to lunch, isn't that right, John?" Greg asked.

"Yeah." John said.

"I will see you around than." The tall man said slipping something into John's pocket before walking away.

"John, you alright?" Greg asked.

"Y… Yeah, I didn't expect to see him again." John stuttered.

"He hasn't gotten over the rejection and is still into himself." Greg murmured.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome; let's go get something to eat in case he follows us." Greg said and John nodded.

They went to a food place nearby and ordered their food; Greg looked at John, "Did he hurt you?"

"Just bruised me a little. I will be fine." The blond answered. "Look, I was going to call you to talk."

"About what?"

"About what happened…" John stated.

"Do you really want to know?" Greg asked.

"Yes. It's over between us, but... Since we will see more of each other… We both have to get past whatever happened."

"With Mycroft, I am not sure. We just connected. With the girl I was afraid that everyone would find out I was gay… I didn't think. She came back six weeks later, telling me she was pregnant." Greg said.

"That's when you dumped me." John said as their food arrived.

"Yeah, I just didn't love you the same way anymore… I still care…" Greg stated.

"Don't worry about it; I had the feeling something changed before my deployment…" John started to eat. Greg noticed the man across the street watching them. The man had backed away when John was dating him, so maybe it'd work again if he believed they were getting back together.

"Did you know Mycroft is mad at you?" John asked.

"Yeah. He won't speak to me… I want to be with him. I don't care who knows…"

"Find a way to tell him that. He cares for you more than you think."

The two finished their meal and Greg went to pay as John started outside, Greg hurried after John, grabbing his hand and making the blond turn around. the Detective pulled John in for a sudden a kiss. John was in shock at first and didn't see his stalker run away, turning around a corner. Greg pulled away once he saw the man gone.

"What was that for?!" John asked.

"Your stalker followed us here…"

"You were trying to… Oh…" John's stomach got uneasy.

"Maybe if he believes we're trying to work it out he will leave you alone. He left you alone while we were together." John nodded in agreement.

"I hope Sherlock or Mycroft didn't see that..."

"Me too." Greg agreed.


	11. Chapter 11

John and Sherlock were out to eat at Angelo's after a case, Sherlock looked at John and noticed he looked distressed.

"There's something bothering you." Sherlock stated.

"Just some guy who had been stalking me for the last week or so." John explained.

"Can't take no for an answer, the type that's obsessed with one person."

"Exactly, we served in the army together that is how we met."

"So, why did you reject him?"

"I was with Greg at the time and he's the type that's all into his looks, not my type."

"You ready to go?" Sherlock asked.

"Yeah." John answered as Sherlock got up.

Sherlock was paying for the meal while John waited outside, leaning against the wall; a male walked up to him and the blond looked at him his heart skipping a beat. The two locked eyes for a brief moment

"John didn't expect to see you here."

"Alex, you followed me here." John said coldly.

"You're a smart man, but then you wouldn't mind if I took you on a date." Alex put one hand on each side of the wall making it so John couldn't just walk away.

"I wouldn't go on a date with you if you were the last person on earth." John hissed.

"I will have you, one way or the other. Remember, I am stronger than you since you now got a bad shoulder." The man grinned, John went to push Alex away but before he could, someone already did. Sherlock was glaring at the man.

"I suggest you walk away and leave him alone." Sherlock said.

"Who is going to stop me?" Alex asked walking up to the tall brunette; John knew this wasn't going to be good, Sherlock didn't look happy. He seemed to be very protective of John.

Alex got up in Sherlock's face, obviously assuming Sherlock was a waif of a man with no substance. He regretted that assumption immediately as Sherlock headbutted Alex, causing the other to stumble back, holding his head. Alex glowered at the tall man before charging him. Sherlock simply leaned forward, caught Alex and tossed him over his shoulder, already having anticipated the move.

"That's enough. Leave him alone now. I don't want to see you again."

Sherlock grabbed John's hand, "Let's get back to the flat." John nodded, dazed. They caught a cab back to Baker Street. John was quiet the whole time. They entered the flat after the cab dropped them off; John went upstairs to the living room.

"So, I assume that was your stalker." Sherlock said.

"Yeah, he just keeps following me… I keep telling him no! he can't take that for an answer!" John all but yelled.

"It'd be best if you didn't go out alone, you don't know what he is capable of."

"I have you protecting me, and Greg… apparently Greg's idea didn't work." John said.

"Not a bad idea to make it look like you two were back together." Sherlock had a hint of jealousy in his voice. "Yes, I saw him kiss you, but I know you want someone else to kiss you."

"Clearly I want…." John stopped himself before he said it. The blond was about to go to his room when he felt Sherlock grab his hand, John turned his head suddenly and Sherlock had gotten only inches away from him. Sherlock pulled the other man closer by grabbing his waist. John's heart started to race as Sherlock leaned in for a kiss. As their lips touched, John slid his arms around the taller brunettes neck, the kiss was filled with passion. The blond moved his hands down to Sherlock's waist. The two pulled away for air and their eyes met.

* * *

**Winterimperfect wrote the small fight scene between Sherlock and Alex.**


	12. Chapter 12

John was in the living room while Sherlock was asleep. The blond hadn't been able to clear his mind of the other night after leaving Angelo's. There was a knock at the door and he went down the stairs to answer it. He opened the door.

"Greg, do you have a case?" John asked.

"No, can I come in?" John gestured him in. "You look distracted."

"I am, I can't get something out of my mind."

"You want to talk about it?" Greg asked.

"I don't know, it won't help." John said.

"Is it about Sherlock? Did he do something?" Greg asked.

"He did but it's not bad… It's just that he kissed me."

Greg looked surprised and shocked. Sherlock actually kissed John. Greg didn't feel jealous of it. He knew it was a rarity for Sherlock to do that. The more he thought about it, Sherlock never did that. "Wow."

"I am sure it's a good thing." John said.

"Yeah, just surprising… I mean he's never done that at all." Greg said. John gave Greg a look, "Yes, he is a virgin."

John sat in the arm chair, "Ah man, now I am not sure of anything."

"You do want to be with the man, I know he isn't the type for relationships but maybe he wants a relationship with you?" Greg said sitting on the couch.

"Yeah, just like I am talking to my ex about kissing another guy. I never thought I'd be doing that." John stated.

"I know, but we both want to be with someone else… I don't see the big deal." John looked at Greg. "Don't give me that look." Greg said. "How did you get to kissing anyways?"

"Alex followed me and Sherlock to Angelo's, Sherlock fought him off. We got back here and we were talking… He saw us kiss and then he was kissing me."

"Oh boy, is it possible he was jealous?"

"I know he is, there was a hint of it when he brought up our kiss." John stated.

"Amazing. Have you told Harry?"

"Are you crazy?! She already thinks that I had sex with him!"

"Where'd she get that idea?" Greg asked.

"The night I didn't come home. She assumed it and I told her I didn't… That's why I moved in here."

"She is always overbearing and protective, I can see why." Greg looked at John, "John, you alright?"

"Yeah." John answered; they heard footsteps coming from Sherlock's room, both men looked. Sherlock was coming out with a sheet over him, Lestrade and John looked at each other.

"Lestrade, when did you get here?" Sherlock asked.

"Few minutes ago." Lestrade answered. Looking at John and the blond glared at him, "I am going to go." The detective inspector got up and left the flat starting to wonder what was up with Sherlock.

John was still confused about Sherlock in a sheet, "Do you have any pants on?"

"No." Sherlock said in his deep baritone voice. John pulled his phone out, he sent a quick text. John grabbed his coat. "Where you going?"

"To see my sister, don't worry I will be fine." John said quickly leaving.


	13. Chapter 13

John was walking along the side walk mostly wanting to get some fresh air; he also wanted to get the thoughts of Sherlock out of his mind for a little while. He kept thinking about that kiss. They almost had gone all the way, but John said he didn't want to. Truth is John did want to, but he wasn't ready to go that far just yet.

He walked around a corner, his phone buzzing in his pocket. The street was a little too crowded for him to just slow down and reply so he made his way to an alley. Unbeknownst to him a man in a cab saw him, "Can you pull aside here and wait for me? My drunk friend is just around the corner." Alex said.

The cabbie grumbled but pulled aside. Alex alighted quickly and made his way to where he saw John disappear to. He walked into the alley on silent feet and was about to grab John when the other quickly turned around. The blonde went to exclaim but Alex would have none of that. Regardless of the danger, he quickly hit John's throat with the side of his hand, cutting off his oxygen and sufficiently knocking him out.

The blonde slumped to the ground and Alex let out a small happy chuckle. He saw the phone in John's limp hand and quickly kicked it away. He didn't want anyone using GPS to track him. He knelt down and pulled John to him. He pressed a possessive kiss to his cheek before he smiled victoriously as he gently placed John over his shoulder and stood.

He made his way out of the alley, making sure he looked as nonchalant as possible. When people gave him questioning looks he muttered something about his friend being a drunkard and the curious or concerned passer-by would just nod and continue on their way.

He soon got to the cab and opened the door, placing John carefully in the cab.

"He passed out, glad I got here in time" Alex said. He told the cabbie where he wanted to go, he just smiled as they got to the flat. Alex paid the cabbie and carried John into the flat after unlocking the door; he took the blond to the bedroom where he pulled out a small bag of pills. He knew John would wake up soon, so he handcuffed John's wrists to one of the bars of his headboard; he admired John's body and couldn't wait to get his way.

The man crushed two the pills and put dust into a bottle of water. He went to the room and John was starting to stir. He had the bottle ready so he just waited for John to fully wake up.

John's vision was blurry, he looked around and tried to move his hands. He tried to move his hands but couldn't. He quickly realized it was handcuffs. He let out a low groan of disapproval before looking blankly at the ceiling.

"Did you think you were safe from me?"

"Alex."

"You made it too easy." The brunette said. He grabbed the bottle of water and walked over to John, "I know you're scared and you should be."

"You can go to hell." John growled.

"You can drink this water, willingly or by force. Your choice." Alex looked John in the eyes, a smug grin taunting the blonde.

"You will have to make me." John said flatly before pressing his lips together into a firm line.

"Drink the water, dammit!" Alex growled out, wrenching Johns head back painfully, his fingernails digging into the blonde's scalp in order to get the man to groan, giving him the access he needed to dump the contents of the bottle into his mouth, causing him to choke and forcefully swallow. He pulled the bottle away, ignoring the blonde's sputters.

"I will be back soon. Don't bother screaming for help. No one will hear you."

* * *

Sherlock got dressed and was playing his violin; it had been an hour since John had left. He wasn't concerned until Greg came running in. Greg was out of breath and clearly distressed.

"Lestrade, what's wrong?" Sherlock asked.

"Please, tell me John's here."

"No, he left an hour ago, what is going on?" Sherlock asked.

"John never made it to his sisters."

Sherlock's expression turned to horror, if John never made it to his sister something had happened. "We need to track his phone!"

"Then log into his account!" Lestrade yelled. Sherlock rushed to John's computer quickly getting past the password, he locked into his phone account and started tracking his phone.

"Come on, it should be faster!"

"Sherlock, we will find him… Try and relax." Lestrade said calmly. The GPS located the phone, "Let's go!" Sherlock all but yelled. Lestrade followed quickly; they got in Lestrade car and went to the location.

Sherlock alighted the car quickly, heading to the alleyway which the GPS had indicated. He hissed out a curse as he bent down and picked up John's phone. He could tell there was a slight scuffle. John was taken by force. He hurried to the street and looked both ways.

"Which way? Too many people have walked here." He hissed, then noticed something a little up to the left.

He hurried over and found a bracelet which John only wore when seeing his sister for it was something she had bought for him years before. He hurried to the main street and noticed the footsteps of someone carrying something heavy in the mud by the sidewalk.

"They went by cab." Sherlock murmured, glancing down the street, "But where? If he was knocked out with drugs, it could be anywhere; if he was knocked out by force it would have to be close."

"Sherlock, anything?"

Sherlock ignored the man and hurried down the street in the direction the cab went, "Sherlock!"

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**both I and Winterimperfect wrote the abduction scene and she solely wrote Sherlock part.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Warning: Non-con**

* * *

John's head was tilted back, his teeth grinding as his brain swam. He felt so good. He began twitching and moving. He tugged restlessly at the bindings at his wrists to no avail. He groaned in displeasure and just rolled around best he could, moving his legs and torso.

He just had so much energy and everything felt **amazing** to the touch. His jaw was beginning to ache but he just couldn't stop grinding his teeth. He had rolled somewhat onto his stomach, his arms twisted in what he thought should be painful but it just didn't hurt. He felt like he was floating. He giggled and moved some more, pausing when he felt a most wonderful sensation in his lower regions. He ground a little into the bed and soon found himself lolling around enjoying the feel of everything.

"Looks to be working."

John looked up, his vision swam a little. He couldn't focus well on whom was near the bed but he found himself smiling regardless, "Hey. How's it going. The world feels amazing, don't you agree?"

The other snorted and replied with, "I guess we should get down to business then. You seem ready."

John squinted, his brows furrowing. Time for what? He didn't care and continued to roll around but stopped when two hands grabbed his hips and held him steady, pulling the last garment on him off.

Now everything really did feel good. He wanted to move some more but he was being held still. He tried to wiggle his legs instead to get this excess energy off but they were being pinned down by a leg. He felt the pressure but that's it. He cocked his head to the side and looked up at the fuzzy person.

The bed dipped a little as the man straddled him, slowly grinding into his lower half. John cooed a little, trying to wiggle a little but soon he found his head to the side, a dull ache in his cheek and blood dribbling from his lip. He ended up going into a fit of giggles as he looked up at the other whom had raised his legs.

"I'm a tree!" John gasped out, trying to stop his giggle fit but instead just tilted his head back and ground his teeth together some more. He soon felt pressure near his anus but just giggled out, "Heey, don't touch there it's gross!"

He tried pushing the other man off him with his legs but to no avail and soon he felt something pierce him.

"Hey, stop. Sherlock only!" He whined out, trying harder to push the other off but he felt a sharp snap as something impaled him and forced his legs to the side unnaturally. The pain soon died off but he didn't feel as good anymore. His stomach was rebelling against him as a copper-tinged scent hit his nostrils and the rocking of the bed didn't help. His bottom felt a weird pressure and light pain twinged his lower half. He managed to look down and see whomever had captured him was slamming into him, repeatedly. He could feel the testicles smacking his bottom, accompanied by a wet sound.

He turned his head and vomited, coughing profuesly afterwards when his head was slammed back into the bed as warmth spurts of _something_ replaced the strange aching pressure.

"That's about all the use you'll be tonight." The other grunted before a sharp pain crossed John's brow and blackness encompassed him.

* * *

Sherlock paced the length of the room, his hand tangled in his hair in frustration.

"It's been a day already, who knows what has happened since John hasn't contacted either of us. Who knows what that crazy man has done?" He muttered, "Think.. THINK.. Where would he- Lestrade!" He barked suddenly causing the DI to turn and look.

"You know where this Alex lives, right? He didn't seem to have an exact plan, so he is more than likely at his own flat or a place he frequents. With that in mind, is there a place he knows or lives in close to where he entered the cab?"

"I have a file on Alex." DI Lestrade said.

"Yes, I get that. But does he have a place near here? I need to know! We don't have time to stall. What if he's carving up John right now? What if he's being flayed alive as we speak? I should've went to the homeless network, they're better than you." He hissed, his pacing getting more agitated.

Lestrade thought for a moment trying to remember, "It's a block down from where John was taken."

"Then why didn't you say so sooner? Seriously." Sherlock growled, turning on his heel and running out the door and towards the street John had been abducted on.

"Where?" He demanded, not even bothering to look if Lestrade had followed him or not.

Lestrade hurried after, "It's the flat complex after the barbers on the left!"

Sherlock nodded and pushed his body further, running at an almost unnatural speed as he shouldered open the door and made his way in. It didn't even occur to him to question the door being unlocked as he hurried up the stairs to the second floor.

Sherlock entered the upper half of the flat quietly, creeping through the darkened halls until he found himself in a room that made bile rise in the back of his throat. It was hard to get a reaction out of him, but this was different. He found John, naked and chained to a barren bed in the far corner of a darkened room. His nostrils burned with the scent of semen, vomit and blood. He saw no one was in the room and hurried to John, pulling out from the pocket of his coat a series of lock picking tools. He looked back at Lestrade and gave him the gesture that stood for, 'watch the entrance' while he went quickly to work on John's restraints. John was still passed out, luckily. In the dim light Sherlock could make out the amount of blood and knew he would be in immense pain once he awakened.

He finished picking the locks and stood back, his eyes scanning the room for clothing and finding none. He removed his jacket and laid it over John's still form. He noticed a bottle in the far end of the room and strode to it, picking it up and ran a finger on the rim. He licked his finger and cursed under his breath. He knew exactly what the man had given him. Sudden movement out of the corner of his eye gave him enough notice to dodge the attack. In his worry for John he failed to notice a well-hidden closet door where Alex had been hiding.

Sherlock quickly headbutted the man and, after the other fell to the floor, he wrenched the mans arm painfully behind his back. "What the hell did you _do_ to him?" He ground out while Lestrade hurried over with handcuffs, cuffing the man. While the rescue was rather anti-climatic, that didn't matter what-so-ever to Sherlock as the man answered, "He is mine. He will forever be mine now. Neither of you can touch him now!"

Sherlock gave Lestrade a look that asked for permission. The DI looked the other way in response and dropped Alex to the floor. Sherlock looked fiercely down at the man before he grabbed his hair, wrenched him up and punched him full force repeatedly. By the time Sherlock was done, his hair was a mess, his eyes were wild, and the man was barely recognizable.

"Let me guess, he fell out a window?" Lestrade muttered, looking at the huffing man. "Exactly. Why don't you do that for me while I call an ambulance for John?"

Sherlock hung up after he received confirmation that an ambulance was dispatched to their location. He quickly went to John and bent over the unconscious man. He reached out and ran a hand over the mans hair, pressing a hand to his forehead. He sighed as he felt a fever. Alex had fucked John up. He gently lifted the smaller man in his arms, wrapped him in his coat and began making his way to the street as he heard the ambulance's wail in the distance. He didn't care if his coat got dirtied, he only cared that John was alright and Alex was put in jail.

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**remember reviews are welcome!**


	15. Chapter 15

Sherlock made it out to the street, clutching John's body to his chest as the ambulance came to a halt. The paramedics rushed out, pulling out the stretcher. Sherlock held John tighter, moving away from the paramedics.

"I'll keep him in my arms; I'll just sit in the back with him." Sherlock sniffed, making his way to the ambulance.

"I'm sorry, sir, but that's against protocol. We must check him over and attach him to the stretcher." The paramedics pleaded, but Sherlock would have none of it and got into the ambulance, waiting for them to go.

The paramedics looked at each other helplessly before loading the stretcher back in and getting into the ambulance.

Sherlock continued to clutch John to his chest, laying him down personally when they brought a hospital bed for him. He kept him covered with his coat and insisted on being the one to put the hospital gown on the smaller man. The nurses glared daggers at the tall man as he carefully secured the gown onto John.

"Thank you, sir, but you must leave now." The nurse said, gesturing to the door.

"No." Sherlock stated simply, his arms crossed as he stood by John's bed side.

"You must leave, if you do not we will call security." The nurse threatened.

Sherlock went to open his mouth to counter her but Lestrade seized his arm and forcefully dragged him out. The DI knew Sherlock let him, for the man was unnaturally strong and if he wanted to hold his ground not even five trained policemen could take him down.

"Sherlock, let them do their job." Lestrade said to the tall brunette whom was currently striding the length of the waiting room.

"I don't like people I don't know touching him." Sherlock muttered, spinning on his heel as he continued to pace. He had put his coat back on after he put the gown on John, not caring that it had blood, vomit and semen on it now. He would just buy another one.

"I know you don't, but John needs to have the rape kit done as well as a check up to make sure he wasn't given an overdose of the drug. Its evidence, Sherlock, or else Alex wouldn't be jailed."

Sherlock continued pacing, ignoring Lestrade's insistence to sit down. While pacing, he heard a commotion by the nurse's quarters. He immediately walked out of the waiting room to see John's sister throwing a fit.

"Harriet? Calm down." Sherlock murmured, making his way over. He quickly dodged the fist that swung his way from the girl and caught the second swing.

"May I ask why you are attacking me?" He mused, grabbing her other hand when she went to swing a final time and held them still.

"Because of you John is in this mess!" She cried out, trying to kick at his knees now.

"How is this my fault? I'm just as distressed as you over this. He wasn't taken from me; he was taken while going to see you. It's no ones fault, we just failed to foresee this." He murmured, nodding at Lestrade who went to get a tranquilizer to calm down Harry.

The nurse quickly jabbed the needle into Harry's arm, pressing down on the plunger to give her the tranquilizer. Lestrade took her from Sherlocks grasp and guided her to the waiting room.

Sherlock let out a sigh and made his way into John's room. He peeked around the curtain to see he was awake. He smiled slightly and approached him, sliding his long, cold hand under the warm, clammy digits of John.

"Are you alright?" Sherlock murmured, not sure what to say. John looked at him, wincing as he shifted.

"Not in the least. I got raped, I barely remember it, and my arse feels like it's been assaulted with a hot poker."

Sherlock winced inwardly, but kept his stoic appearance. He lowered himself into the chair next to the bed and studied John.

"How did he get you?"

John sighed, "I was answering a text message, but there were too many people so I went into the mouth of an ally. The last thing I expected was for Alex to come up to me and give me a bloody throat chop. He could've killed me. I woke up as he shuffled me from cab to flat but he had restrained me by that point and I was groggy. After that…forced water down my throat and I began to feel strange. Everything after is a blur. foggy."

"He gave you ecstasy, John. He used that so you'd be more compliant to his rape. From what I saw, I'm glad you don't remember it." Sherlock murmured, squeezing John's hand.

"I was worried." He whispered, looking to the side. Sherlock hated to show his human side, as rare as it was, but to John... He held no remorse in showing it.

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**Winterimperfect wrote the chapter.**


	16. Chapter 16

Three months later…

John was watching a movie when Sherlock came back from a case, he stopped when he saw the movie the blonde was watching. Sherlock leaned on the couch and looked at John.

"What is this rubbish? John, do you actually like this?"

"Yes. Watch it with me?" He pleaded and Sherlock couldn't refuse with the look the blonde sent him.

He sighed and shed his jacket and scarf before settling onto the couch with John and began watching the film with him. His eyes slowly raised as he saw a character humping a blonde woman against a pillar.

"John, that actor looks strikingly similar to you. Is there something I don't know?" Sherlock mused, a smirk tugging at his lips as he watched the scene unfold.

The blondes face flushed as he looked aside. It was true, the actor did look nearly identical to him, straight down to his body type, though with less scars and no army tattoos.

Nearly a half hour later and Sherlock was holding back a groan. What rubbish this was.

"You know he's going to get wooed by the secretary and the wife will have a ridiculously dramatic tizzy. He'll screw the maid, and he'll actually bang the porn star. Why are you even bothering to **watch** this rubbish?" The brunette stated, arms cross as he glared at the telly like it was some unpleasant bug.

"Sherlock. I _know_ it's obvious. That doesn't mean I don't want to see it. It's a feel good movie." John explained patiently, having paused the movie so he wouldn't loose the plot. He pressed play when Sherlock stayed silent and continued to watch.

"Ugh, they're kissing. What's so good about this?" Sherlock muttered, his face a mask of disgust as he turned away. He glanced back, "Now they're undressing. Can we, you know, skip this?"

"_No_, Sherlock. We're** not** skipping this. I like this."

The brunette groaned and looked to the side, "Tell me when this disgusting scene is over."

John rolled his eyes and looked back at the telly, muttering, "What a baby."

The blonde eventually nudged the taller man when the scene was over and he began to watch the film again, though with snide comments, and 'I told you so' tossed in. By the end of it, Sherlock had tilted his head back, exposing his long white neck, due to the utter boredom such trite shite caused him.

John sidled over and fought down a smirk as he began nibbling on the long expanse of throat. A startled gasp and the lanky body shuddered.

Little known fact, Sherlock was overly ticklish.

"_John_! Stop that at once!" He gasped, pushing the other away forcefully with one hand while the other pressed against his neck where John had nibbled. The blonde was reduced to giggles on the side of the couch at the scandalous look on the brunette's face as he pushed him away.

"It's not funny." The lanky man sulked, looking in the opposite direction the blonde was in.

"It was. I'm going to bed now." John said between giggles, having ejected the DVD and put it away. He waved good night at the still sulking man and went into his room where he shed his clothes and crawled under the covers.

* * *

John was curled up in a fetal position in his bed, his brows tightly knit together and eyes clenched shut. He let out a moan and rolled onto his back. His head shifted from side to side as his moans and groans got louder, more urgent. His face was a mask of horror as he began to scream.

Sherlock quickly glanced up from his computer screen when he heard the groans. He slammed the lid down on his laptop, hurriedly shoved it off his lap and onto the table before he rushed up the stairs and to John's side. He shook one shoulder, dodging a sudden punch as the eyes flew open. The blonde cried out and went to struggle.

"John!" Sherlock hissed, shaking the smaller man. He watched the haze fade and the blue eyes focusing on him instead of the fleeting nightmare.

"Sherlock?"

"You going to be alright?" Sherlock asked, rubbing his arm awkwardly.

"I don't know." John said, looking to the side. The brunette stood up from his leaning position and went to leave when John grabbed Sherlock's hand, holding tight onto him. "Can you stay?"

"I… John, I'm really not good at this sort of stuff."

"I know. I just need you here." Sherlock nodded, John moved over and Sherlock slowly got into the bed. John held him close and Sherlock awkwardly put his arm around John and smiled down at him. He liked the feeling he got when near the blonde. He watched John snuggle into his shoulder, going back to sleep. Sherlock shifted a little before getting comfy, and slowly, he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Sherlock woke to the sunlight streaming in through the window and glanced beside him to see John next him, slowly waking up; Sherlock just laid on his side and tilted his head so he was facing John. The smaller man smiled, "Surprised you haven't left yet."

"You want me to go?" Sherlock asked.

"No, but I've never seen you to stay longer than needed."

Sherlock pulled John close and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. "I'm not staying longer. This is where I want to be."

The blonde looked up at Sherlock, an eyebrow raised. Sherlock looked at him searchingly, "No good?"

"No, too good. I think that's the most romantic thing you've ever said. What's happened to you? Did aliens take over your body?" John asked, placing a hand to the brunette's forehead.

Sherlock swatted John's hand away as he snorted, "Aliens? Don't be preposterous."

"Ahh, that's the Sherlock I know." John said with a smile before leaning forward and pressing a lingering kiss to the full lips of his tall counterpart.

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**I thank everyone who followed this story but all good stories must come to an end, the reviews were wonderful! Both winterimperfect and i loved the reviews we got.**

**Hope you enjoyed the story! **


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